


Honeyed Lips

by jonsastan (lilzipop)



Series: Meet Cute Au [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Fairy!Sansa, I'm counting it, One Shot, does this count as a meet cute?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 10:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilzipop/pseuds/jonsastan
Summary: She was beautiful, completely and utterly beautiful.Her hair was long and auburn, kissed by fire, her eyes the colour of a river and as wild as the sea. He watched as she moved further into the room, her feet bare but nibble. Her slender and lithe form covered in a pale blue dress that clung to her hips, her waist, her breasts.It wasn’t until she sat down that he realised she had been moving toward him.





	Honeyed Lips

**Author's Note:**

> A supernatural Jonsa Au kind of inspired by Keats ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci’. I use a blend of faery folk lore, but the key thing is that once a mortal eats faery food, mortal food will no longer sustain them.

The alehouse door creaked as Jon pushed it open, but the music and revelry was so loud he was probably the only one to notice it. 

He eyed a group of men, hovering around the stage wearily. He didn’t want trouble tonight. 

“Ale.” He grunted at the barman, and a mug was placed before him. He was grateful that the others in the alehouse were leaving him alone. He just wanted to drink, eat, and sleep before returning on his way. That thought almost made him shudder. On his way where? His father had made it abundantly clear that a bastard son could expect nothing, so he’d travelled North. It was the only thing he’d know about his mother. 

_She was a Northern beauty._ Jon’s father had said one night when he’s been in his cups. _And the greatest mistake of my life._

It took Jon longer than he’d care to admit for him to notice the alehouse had gone silent, the only sound the creaking of the door. He looked over and his breath caught in his throat. 

She was beautiful, completely and utterly beautiful. 

Her hair was long and auburn, _kissed by fire_, her eyes the colour of a river and as wild as the sea. He watched as she moved further into the room, her feet bare but nibble. Her slender and lithe form covered in a pale blue dress that clung to her hips, her waist, her breasts. 

It wasn’t until she sat down that he realised she had been moving toward him.

“Good evening.” The simple greeting sounded like a song from her lips. 

“I- Ah- yeah. Good- good evening.” Jon stammered. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“Milk please,” she settled onto the stool beside him, “with honey.” 

Jon didn’t need to repeat the order, the bartender was already placing the mug of milk in front of the woman.

“I don’t have any coin.” She said, not yet reaching for the drink. 

“I’ll pay.” Jon said immediately. He fished out coin from his pocket and slapped it on to the table. He turned to her and watched almost entranced, as she took a sip of her milk. Her tongue sneaking out to swipe the milk that clung to her top lip. 

“But I have nothing to pay you with.” 

“It’s fine.” Jon said, taking a sip of his ale. 

“Do you have a name?” She asked.

“Jon Snow. What’s yours?”

“Sansa.” Her voice light and full of unshed laughter. 

“You have a lovely name.” She smiled into her mug of milk. “What brings you here?” Jon added, fearing the conversation would end all too soon. 

“I’m travelling North.” She replied, her eyes had not left his face. 

“As am I.” 

“Hmmm.” She hummed sipping her milk delicately. 

“Perhaps,” Jon cleared his throat, “ Perhaps you’d like a travelling companion?” 

“I think, perhaps, I might.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jon tried to focus on the road and not on the scent of his travelling companion’s hair. She was seated in front of him, riding sidesaddle, her delicate feet exposed to the cold. 

_“You need some shoes.” He’d said before they’d left the alehouse. She’d just smiled at him. _

_“The snow would never hurt me.” _

“I have thought of payment for you.” She said, her back pressing into his chest. She was warm despite the snow falling around them. 

“Yeah?” He answered, wondering if her skin was warm and soft as it looked.

“I could trade you a song.” He glanced down and realised she had lent back, fully into his chest and was looking up at him. Her wild blue eyes smiling, her lips pink and soft, her skin, her skin had a shimmer, like snow in the sun.

“I’d like that.” His voice was light as a feather, his eyes darkening as he noticed the blush of her cheek.

“What song would you like as payment?”

“Whatever pleases your heart to gift to me.”

She smiled at him, and began to sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They camped for the night and Jon noticed she had her own food, food she did not offer him. But he’d figured out why on the road. As her voice moved through the air, it warmed his very soul, but he noticed the horse was calmer, the breeze became warmer, the snow lighter. And her eyes, they shone with wild joy, free and unrestrained. 

_A faery’s child._

“Would you like some salted meat?” He asked, offering her a piece. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. He fished in his bag and pulled out his last apple. “An apple?” Her eyes lit up and she moved to take it. “I’ll trade you for some of that honey?” 

She faltered. Her smile disappearing before reappearing. 

“You have nothing to put your honey on.” 

“Then share some of you water with me?” He gestured to the flask that had hung low on her hip. 

“No.” She sat back and resumed eating her honey and a strange kind of bread. Jon stood and sat beside her. He balanced the apple on her knee. 

“But I will not give you any food in return.” She said, taking the apple and holding to her nose, breathing in it’s scent. 

“It’s okay.” He watched as her long fingers traced over the skin of the apple.

“You know, don’t you?” She asked, her voice soft, a trace of fear maring her usually melodic voice. 

“Aye.” He said, his eyes finding her face. 

“I’m supposed to bring someone back.” Her voice was small. “But I cannot trick someone from their mortal life.” Her eyes met his. “They might be loved.” 

They were close, so close Jon could have counted her eyelashes, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He leaned in ever so slightly. 

“What if someone had no one who loved them?” _Did he imagine it, or did her eyes flicker to his lips?_

“That would be a tragedy.” His eyes followed the movement of her lips. 

“Could they come with you?” His voice was a hair above a whisper. 

“I never met anyone who wanted to come with me.”

“I want to.” The words had barely left his lips when Sansa kissed him. Soft and sweet and delicate, causing his heart to pound and his eyes to flutter close. 

He deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cup her jaw, her hands resting on his chest. His tongue flicked out and he tasted something sweet.

He pulled back, and swallowed the honey he’d stolen from her lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are my bread and butter! :)


End file.
